


Warmth

by kesomon



Category: Tron (Movies), Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Laundry, Licking, M/M, Rain, Shower Sex, Tron is just a big cat, circuit porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-29
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 06:13:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesomon/pseuds/kesomon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tron just wants to get warm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shirozora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirozora/gifts).



> Beta'd by Shirozora and Brightdreamer. This is also known as the adorable Tron snuggling warm laundry fic, which then mutated into the soaking wet Sam/Tron shower nookie followed by snuggling warm laundry fic, and meanwhile I’m sitting here wondering what the hell happened. I blame Shiro for EVERYTHING in this.

"I swear, I didn't know it was going to start raining on us when I went in," Sam apologised for the fourth time. He was trying very hard not to laugh. "The forecast only said it was going to be mostly cloudy today."

Tron gave the User an unimpressed frown; the effect was ruined when he sneezed, violently, and blinked rapidly at the odd physical reflex. Sam gave up, chuckling as he unlocked his door and ushered the program inside.

He honestly hadn't expected rain. Three different weather reports from three separate channels and two apps on his Smartphone had said the storm wouldn't move in until Monday. Instead, he and Tron had walked out of the arcade under the heavy hanging clouds, climbed on Sam's Ducati, and had made it three quarters of the way to Sam's place before the heavens opened up.

Sam, who was used to expecting to drive through all sorts of weather, was at protected at least in some part by his riding jacket, which was wind- and water-proof. Tron, who had been wearing his dad's old leather jacket, hadn't been as fortunate.

"W-w-we have r-rain on the Grid but a-at least w-we have th-the s-sense t-to s-s-stay ind-doors. And it's n-not as c-c-cold," Tron stuttered out through chattering teeth, arms wrapped tightly around his body and a suddenly half-frustrated, half-alarmed look on his face. "S-Sam, I s-seem to have d-developed a v-vocal glitch."

Sam laughed and shook his head. "No, man, you're shivering. It's how Users regulate their body temperature. It'll go away once we get you warmed up."

"I d-d-don't like it," the program proclaimed, scowling. "H-how c-c-come you're not sh-shivering?"

"I'm used to it, for a start, and I'm wearing more layers," Sam said, shucking off his jacket and hoodie and toeing off his boots. "I also didn't get as wet as you." It was true; the windscreen of the Ducati and Tron's body had shielded Sam from the brunt of the downpour. Tron, however, looked like a drowned cat, his hair slicked to his scalp and a sullen expression on his face. He perked up with puzzled interest when Sam removed his shirt, eyes suddenly sharply fixed on the lines of the User's torso.

"Here; take off your clothes. I'll shuck this stuff in the dryer and find you something to wear in the meantime." Sam was busily trying to peel his sopping jeans off his legs.

Tron looked bewildered for a moment, then unfolded his arms and peeled off Kevin's jacket, laying it reverently over the back of the couch. He tugged off the boots Sam had gotten him, then the black t-shirt underneath as he mimicked Sam's order of clothing removal, and he was fumbling with numb fingers the button on his jeans when a pair of hands joined his and helpfully assisted.

"Lean back," Sam murmured, nuzzling his jaw line with a smirk, and Tron shuddered for an entirely different reason, obediently leaned back against the couch. Sam knelt and was quick to divest him of the chilled, wet denim. The program sighed with something akin to relief, before he wrapped his arms around his torso as the shivering returned in force.

Sam balled up their wet clothing and stood, pressing a chaste kiss to Tron's lips.

"Go get in the shower," he said, "The warm water'll help. I'll join you in a minute."

Not one to argue if it meant making the shivering stop, Tron did just that.

**Ooo-oOo-ooO**

Thankfully, Sam had shown Tron how to operate the devices in a User's bathroom on a previous visit. Tron wasted no time in activating the shower and adjusting it to a temperature level that was hot, but not uncomfortably so, before he peeled off his last article of clothing – Sam had called them boxers – and stepped under the spray.

The effect was immediate; warmth flowed almost painfully into frozen limbs and the urge to shiver ceased. Tron groaned with relief, pressing his palms to the wall beneath the faucet, tilting his head forward to let the water strike the back of his neck and shoulders.

Of the things in the User world he tended to miss while on the Grid, showers were one of them. He'd often come off a work cycle pent up with stress and aching down to his very code, wishing for the soothing warmth and gentle massage that now drummed against his skin.

There was a rustle and the click of the door shutting, and then Sam climbed in behind him, curving a hand around his torso and splaying fingers across the expanse of his stomach as the User pressed himself to Tron's back, kissing the nape of his neck. Tron let out a purring rumble and leaned back into the new source of warmth. As Sam began nibbling at the faint, off-colour lines that matched his circuits on the Grid and followed the curve of his shoulder, Tron amended his last thought. What he really wanted was _Sam_ in a shower on the Grid.

"That is a fantastic idea," Sam muttered. Tron hadn't realised he'd voiced that last opinion aloud. "May need to include intensity settings, though; these are a lot more responsive in there than out here." He trailed his fingers down the curve of a torso line that framed Tron's stomach and the program groaned, shuddering at the sensitivity of those delicate markings. "While it might be fun to overload on sensation every time we got in, it wouldn't be practical."

Tron's breath hitched as the User stroked the curve of a shorter mark on his lower stomach, sending a jolt of heat through his groin, and his cock twitched. Not even Sam's striptease earlier had roused it from the cold; now, with warm water trickling down Tron's skin and the feel of Sam nestled up against his backside, hips making tiny, teasing nudges, it was showing definite signs of interest.

Sam was still talking, even as he licked the slope of Tron's neck. The program turned around and slid his hand along the User's jaw, pressing in to silence him with a heady kiss. Sam moaned into his mouth, dragging Tron's hips flush with his own as Tron nipped at his lip, pausing to breathe and murmur, "Calculate later, Sam."

"Hey, you brought it up." Sam chuckled, groaning as Tron responded by grinding his hips into Sam's, fingers trailing his back where circuit lines would be. The User bucked up, erection sliding against the heat of Tron's own shaft, slicked by the water. "Ah-hng, fuck."

He reached for something behind Tron; there was a click, a pause, a snap and thud, and then Sam's hand was between them, on them, the cool, slick body-soap on his palm sudsing up as he curled his fingers around both their cocks and _stroked_. Tron gasped sharply, throwing out a hand to brace himself against the wall behind Sam. An almost familiar scent curled in his nose, sharp and sweet - citrus – oranges, he realised; he sucked in a shuddering breath, moaning against Sam's mouth. He might've felt a few synapses melt. He couldn't be sure; he'd have to check when he was back on the Grid. But Sam's hand was still stroking, squeezing, and the friction was building like energy beneath his skin, pleasure loosening his grasp on those thoughts.

Sam's mouth left his to suck at a cluster of lines at his neck. They were still sensitive off the grid, even without the familiar static, and Tron keened, tilting his head back as Sam's tongue lapped and pressed lower, grazing the squares at his sternum with his teeth.

"Users, frag- Sam, _Sam_ …"

"Easy, fuck, I gotcha, let it happen, ah-h-geez, c'mon Tron…"

Tron grunted, a whimper escaping his throat as he jerked against Sam, the fingers of one hand gripping at the User's hip hard enough to bruise. Cold heat pooled in his stomach, tightening and paralysing his functions; he went rigid, coming with a hoarse cry, painting their stomachs and Sam's hand in stripes of white that immediately began rinsing away in the shower's spray. A few thrusts later Sam followed, grunting and gasping Tron's name amidst User-profanities.

Tron was getting better at this; instead of blacking out, he'd only lost visual acuity for a moment. He slumped against Sam, puffing for air as his head swam dizzily.

The water had gone lukewarm, and pelted in a cool rhythm against his flushed skin. He shivered at the chill, and immediately groaned. Sam huffed a laugh and let his head press against Tron's shoulder. "Well that was counter-productive. I'm gonna get the stuff out of the dryer."

Tron was too exhausted to argue, and he was _cold_ again, delete it.

Sam reached back to shut off the water, wrapped a towel around his waist, then grabbed another towel, throwing it over Tron's head and scrubbing at his wet hair vigorously with a grin. Tron growled in protest and grabbed his wrists, yanking them down along with the towel and glaring. Sam sputtered with laughter. The system monitor's hair was sticking out every which-way like a failed attempt at punk. The User tugged him over to the mirror and laughed harder as Tron blinked at his reflection, then scowled and flattened it down with his hand until it looked more like his usual style.

"God, you're just like a big cat sometimes." He took the towel and wrapped it around Tron's shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. "Right. Dryer. Warm clothes good."

Tron rumbled into the kiss, chasing Sam's lips as the User broke away and left him alone in the bathroom. He shot a last glare at his reflection, then scrubbed himself dry.

**Ooo-oOo-ooO**

Tron had wrapped himself in the towel as Sam had done and had wandered into the bedroom by the time Sam reappeared, his arms full of clothing.

"Alright, warm clothes, hot off the press," Sam announced, dumping the pile on the bed beside Tron. Tron raised an eyebrow at the sheer amount; there was certainly more than just their wet things from earlier. He said as much to the User, who chuckled.

"Ah, well I had some stuff in the dryer already so I just threw it all together. Gotta remember to fold it later." He paused and snapped his fingers. "Damn, I almost forgot the sweats. Back in a sec."

Tron shook his head as Sam dashed out again, and studied the pile before him. Where were his clothes in the tangled mess? He reached out to tug on something that looked like the sleeve of his black shirt – and froze, fascinated, instead pressing his hand into the assorted fabric.

It was _warm_.

Logically, yes, he knew this already. Sam had said so. But it was a radiant warmth, surrounding and soaking into his skin and making the tiny bumps that had risen on his arm fade away. Tron had worried about those at one point, but Sam had assured him they weren't a sign of sickness or corruption. Still, it made him feel better to see them leave. He made an inquisitive noise in his throat and knelt on the bed, pushing his arms into the centre of the clothing mass. It was wonderfully, deliciously _warmer_ inside the pile, and the fabric felt smooth and soothing against his arms and chest. The noise hitched up in delight, and he wriggled into the pile completely, murring happily.

When Sam came back with a pair of sweatpants he'd scrounged up for Tron to wear, he had to stop at the door and blink at the sight of a mostly-naked program half-buried in clothing. The User bit his lip to keep from bursting into laughter, and walked around the side of the bed, bending over to look Tron in the eye. The program smiled up at him, a blissed-out expression on his face and a rumbling purr thrumming away in his chest.

"I see you have discovered the nirvana that is fresh laundry."

"Warm," he purred. Sam chuckled and reached out to scratch Tron's scalp gently; the program's eyes rolled back and the purr hitched up a notch.

"Yup, just a big ol' cat."

Tron murred; his hand snaked out to grab Sam's wrist, yanked him into the pile to the sound of laughter, and proceeded to kiss him breathless.


End file.
